


A Hope For the Future

by Mandergee



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Just mild spoilers, Spoilers for season 2 "Face My Enemy"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 07:30:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3928198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandergee/pseuds/Mandergee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's never uncommon for May to stay quiet, but after they return from the mission Coulson finds himself concerned enough to track her down...and see if she's okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hope For the Future

**Author's Note:**

> Could be read as a companion piece to "Bed, Bath and Beyond Necessity", but doesn't have to be.

Coulson knocked first, before cautiously pushing the door open and peering into the empty locker room. May had disappeared once they'd arrived on base, clutching his suit jacket around her body and stalked into the corridor leading to the barracks below without a word. He'd worried, as he was prone to doing, when the scent of burnt skin had wafted through the air conditioned SUV and she hadn't answered his questions about what it was Hydra had done to her during the time they'd been separated. So he'd gone to find her, to see if she'd tried to patch herself up- or what wounds might _need_ thecare that she wouldn't give them.

The sound of running water reached him as he moved through the forest of grey metal lockers and long, polished wooden benches. It was rare to find anyone in the locker rooms, so many field agents choosing elsewhere to do their workouts, and the few that remained on base- primarily himself, May and Bobbi- would do theirs at odd hours when no one was awake to witness. May preferred the quiet, and it occurred to him that she might be neglecting her workouts in the early hours to ensure he wasn't getting in a workout of his own when it came to the alien writing.

"May?” Water slapped against tile as he reached the shower room, and he heard her throat clear sharply. “I just came to check in."

"You came into to the showers to see if I was okay?" Her silhouette was barely visible through the thick curtain, hair trailing down her back before a hand rose up to lather soap through the length of it. _When did her hair get longer_? May had hair he'd always admired, the deep brown reminding him of chocolate, the scent of strawberries heavy in her wake whenever she would move. One of the things he'd missed working with her, he realized, was the way she would smell when he'd pull her close. "If you're trying to get me to talk about the plan again.."

"It's not that." How could he put it, he wondered, so she wouldn't think he was trying- again- to corner her? In her voice it was easy enough to hear the wary uncertainty, and the expectation of a trap. "I could smell the burns, Melinda. And I know you were all right, but..."

"But you wanted to make sure." The water masked what he imagined was a sigh, the only sign of it the way her head tillted slightly upward and back. Coulson moved from his place in the doorway, settled back into the curved seat of a plastic chair positioned nearby, and waited for her to speak again. "It wasn't anything I haven't dealt with before, Phil."

"She had your face." It had been a shock when he'd first concluded it _wasn't_ her, the punch in the gut something he'd had to work carefully to conceal as 'May' had placed her hand over his, squeezed in a comforting move he and _his_ May had never shared. In the years they'd worked together he'd only comforted her once, held her against his chest as her tears soaked his shirt and the gasping sobs vibrated through him. Before Bahrain she'd been warmer and the frequent contact they'd shared had always been something he'd held onto...but never had he felt her hand on his. "When she agreed to have coffee with me, I knew it wasn't you. But when I realized that meant I didn't know where you were, I can't tell you what I thought."

"They're just electrical burns."

“How bad?"

“They smell worse than they are." Her chuckle was deep, and he smiled as she began to run the recognizable shape of a loofah sponge along her shoulders, down her biceps. "Thought they could get me to talk."

"I can only imagine the look on his face when he realized who he was dealing with."

"It was pretty entertaining- but so is yours when I take you down in hand to hand." Coulson shifted as the direction of the loofah changed, and the same area she steered it toward was the area of his body that suddenly became a great deal less comfortable. He'd seen her naked in more occasions than he could count, the guilt at seeing her with a wedding ring and little more enough to give him cause to request alternate assignments, but the requests had been denied with each submission and before he'd been able to anticipate it- Andrew had become a good friend. The therapist in him had identified the issue and addressed it with a casual air Coulson had found surprising, and the three of them had remained closer than he'd ever thought possible. Now, with the definition of their relationship changed in leaps and bounds...the guilt was gone, replaced by a relief that he'd embraced with gratitude. "What do you say? When this is all over, we go back to sparring in the morning? I think you could use the refresher."

"I'd like that." The sound of water ceased, and a hand reached out from behind the curtain, fingers curling into a beckoning gesture. "Hand me the towel on the hook, will you?"

"Sure." Thick and fluffy, the only towel hanging in the room had monogrammed initials, and Coulson found himself smiling slightly at the curled letters that were sewn into the thick edging. _M.M._ A monogrammed towel belonging to Heidi Martin, a gift from her husband Charles on their first wedding anniversary. Rich purple cotton, and the letters in the gilded gold thread had been Skye's idea.It was all part of his proposal that they go undercover, a way to soften May up for one of her least favorite mission requirements. Melinda's fingers grasped tightly as he held it out, and when she stepped over the lip of the shower stall her eyebrow raised slightly at his expression. "You kept the towel."

“Who am I to turn down a gift from my husband?" Tiny burns were visible in the skin the towel didn't cover, and he reached out to run a finger over the angry gray mark just beneath her collarbone. "It looks worse than it is, remember?"

"How it looks is still pretty bad." His eyes met hers and she smiled, unmoving as Coulson moved the hand upward, cupped the curve of her jaw and turned her head sideways. "He get you anywhere else?"

"I'm beginning to think that question is just an excuse to see me naked." They'd never had the chance, with Russo, but as Coulson had patched her up from the encounter with the knife he could remember wondering if she was telling him the truth. Or if he was interpreting the look in her eyes as something entirely different- and he'd never had the opportunity to find out. "Phil, do you really think this is wise?"

“Who knows how much time I have?" It wasn't the right thing to say, the expression on her face changing from wistful to anguished, but he pressed on. "I don't want things to keep going like this. If we have the opportunity to change our relationship...I don't want to miss the chance because I'm worried about going the way of Garrett. Too much time has already passed for us to be hung up on worrying about what could have been.”

"I-" It hadn't been the way he'd imagined it, pulling her close and pressing his lips against hers, feeling the moisture from her skin soaking into the fabric of his shirt. But it wasn't tears, and the shaking of her body through his shirt wasn't due to sadness- or to fear. She was cold, but it seemed that neither of them cared as they held each other close, and the worry turned to hope as he pulled away. "That was..."

"You liked it."

"Phil-"

"A little bit?" He was sure the smile on his face was as goofy as she often accused him of being, and the way her eyes shone told him he was absolutely right. But her expression remained impassive, and as he kissed her hard and fast, pushing her up against the cool tiled wall, the corners of her lips twitched slightly before breaking out into a brilliant, beautiful smile.

"A little bit." The talk Coulson had planned ran through his mind, ideas of how to approach the situation. Once he’d found out her status he’d intended to discuss the future, but the moment he’d found her...he realized it didn’t matter. There was nothing that would make her pull the trigger to end his life, and there was no longer any reason that he wanted her to. She’d be there, and with Melinda May at his side there would be no chance she’d let him change from the man he was to the man he was afraid he’d have to be.

“You're cold. Come on- we should talk.” He let go and watched her step back, enjoyed the way the towel hugged against her and how her smile was brighter than he'd seen in a long time. For a moment they were young again, and the unfulfilled desires they both felt were something they were finally free to address. “Your room is closer- and there's less chance anyone will be around.”

“Worried about getting caught?”

“Not exactly.” Coulson reached out and snagged her waist, pulled her back to hoist her into his arms as she issued an abrupt cry of shock. “I just don't want anyone to get in the way while I carry you back.”

“My hero.” She leaned up to press her lips against his, and he began to carry her out- a man carrying the woman he loved over the threshold and into the future.

Because as long as he had her, he had a future to look forward to.

  
  



End file.
